BARBARA GORDON

Barbara was always on top of things. He’d have liked to take some of the credit for her being as intelligent and quick as she was, but that was all her. Jim had done his best to be there, to be a dad alongside being a cop who spent most of his time at work, but once in awhile he regretted the things that he’d missed. He had tried to keep that to a minimum when she was young, but there’d been no way to get to every parent-teacher night or see her handed every single award. He knew that she understood, maybe it never even crossed her mind, but on days like that one it weighed on his.

As he saw her come out, Jim stepped out of his car and locked it behind him. He’d had to buy a new one in Star City for the first time in years and still wasn’t used to it. It wasn’t the kind of city where you could walk everywhere, and he didn’t want to take a squad car on personal business. Still, new models had bells and whistles he didn’t know what in the hell to do with. The seats warmed themselves. It was excessive. 

“Hey, Pumpkin. You want a hand?” He walked toward her to take the handles of her chair, unless she warned him off. It depended on the day, usually. “I have the whole day.” 

“I got it,” Barbara said easily, waving off the offer. It had never been easy for her to accept help, not even now, although she was getting better at it. There were times she understood that she didn’t have to do everything herself, but it was a difficult habit to break. She was used to managing everything for everyone. It was something she was good at, even thrived with, and she was good at it. Oracle felt just as natural as Batgirl. It challenged her in new ways, but she’d risen to the occasion. There hadn’t been a choice; it wasn’t like she’d ever been the type to feel sorry for herself. 

For a few minutes she was quiet, content to enjoy the silence between them and the chilly night air. There wasn’t a lot of traffic, odd, but she knew it would be some time before people were used to not having a curfew. She was expecting an adjustment period.

Tim was tired as they finished off. Not really physically. It hadn’t been that kind of night. But dealing the emotions of everything, being back in the Robin suit without Bruce, and just… everything with Jason had Tim feeling heavy. He needed to recharge. Probably needed to be alone, but he had to see to his face a little bit better than he had in the car. He moved to the mirror nearby as Barbara spoke, wincing as he took in the large split above his eyebrow. “So stupid…” he commented quietly. He shouldn’t have been that slow. It was embarrassing.

Shaking his head, he looked over to her. “Jason’s used to doing it his way, you know?” He offered. It wasn’t really much, honestly, but he was trying. “If you give him shit, he’s just going to dig his donkey hooves deeper into the ground.”

-

Glancing over her shoulder, Babs frowned when she saw the split above his brow. “That looks like it might need stitches.” Alfred was upstairs, but his medical kit was always in the cave. She hadn’t heard any reports of injuries, but she knew that didn’t mean there weren’t any. Bruce had a habit of not telling her he was injured until the mission had been over for fifteen minutes or more. “Here, let me take a look.” Babs didn’t necessarily hover, but she was protective of the others, similarly to how a mom would be, but could also be equally tough.

“He can’t put you or himself at risk like that,” she said simply, frowning as she leaned back in her chair. There were things she could anticipate and warn them about, if necessary, and it was dangerous to cut off that resource. She could always relay the information to Tim, but not having direct communication to Batman was a huge liability. 

“Jason muted me.” Babs’ tone was one of barely restrained anger. “Is he already gone?” Tim had come in alone, so she could only guess that Jason had gone his own, separate way that didn’t take him through the Batcave. A shame, because she had plenty she’d just been waiting to say to him. Unfortunately for Tim, it might end up being a case of shooting the messenger. 

Gritting her teeth, she stabbed at the keyboard with a vengeance and glared into the screen. Green reflected off her glasses as she tapped through long lines of code. “You can tell him next time he does it, I’m gluing the comm in his ear and connecting the mute button to max volume.”

@oraclestandingby

Thirty something years as a cop and a handful more in the service had left Jim well acquainted with the idea that life, especially his own, was not guaranteed every day. Over and over, he made the choice to go out every night anyway. Someone had to do it, someone had to make the sacrifice and see the terrible things, so that at least there was a chance of it being dealt with and fixed. He’d always been able to handle it, or get as close to handling it as any person could, so he’d done it. Again and again. 

It had meant a lot of moments where he wasn’t sure he’d see his daughter again. There were a lot of reasons that Bruce Wayne’s death hit home, but that was one of them. The universe just didn’t make any damn sense, sometimes, and he couldn’t stand it. There was no reason a man like that was dead and Jim was still alive. There was no sensible path that led to Batman being gone, his kids being without their dad, and Jim Gordon still being there. He was, though. He still was. Barbara had her dad, he still had his not-so-little girl, and he’d taken a damn day off work for once. 

Maybe he was being an old sentimental fool that day. Given how rare an occasion that was, he thought she might forgive him for it just the once. He called first, though he was already parked in front of her building.

[Calling - Barb]: “It’s Dad. Do you have an hour or two to spare?” 

Although Bruce’s death left a ripple across the entire country, from Gotham to Star City, Babs was determined not to let herself stop working. Oracle had a lot to do. With NOVA out of the city and the streets more peaceful than they’d been in years, she had the ability to focus on what came next. Her position with the SCPD was technically freelance work, but she set aside enough time to help her dad and the rest of the department with the tech and databases that were now at their disposal.

The majority of her attention had been on Bruce’s family. They were their family too, even if it wasn’t by blood, and she was doing her best to exercise patience. But if Jason muted her one more time, she was going to glue the comm in his ear and disable the button. Babs could be strict and short with the people she cared about, for her it was also a matter of practicality, but she knew they were going through a difficult time. She was trying to be understanding. 

It wasn’t easy.

When she heard her phone go off, she didn’t even have to look at the screen to know who it was.

“Of course. I’ll be down in a minute.” There was no sense in asking. She already knew he was there. Her apartment complex had plenty of cameras, and a micromovement of her pinky had given her access to the street view. 

When: Present Day Where: Star City - Babs’ Place With: Barbra @oraclestandingby​

Teddy was feeling, well… a little numb about the whole thing. Sure he and Bruce hadn’t been close but, they’d worked on the same team before the Avenging League and saved each other’s asses more than once. He didn’t really know how to compute him suddenly not being here anymore. What he was feeling though, had to be a fraction compared to Babs. She was the member of the BatClan he was closest to, so he turned up at her place with two coffee’s and several donuts, figuring she could use the food. Hell, he might even have one. 

“Hey Babs,” he smiled slightly when she opened the door, “I come baring caffeine and sugar. How’re you holding up?” 

-

The news hit Babs hard, but at that point she felt shut in an echo chamber of grief. Even though Bruce hadn’t ever adopted her, she’d worked with the family so long (and was almost part of it, had she actually married Dick) and in such a close capacity that it felt like family. It always would. Her father, too, had a unique relationship with Bruce Wayne/Batman. She could tell he was devastated by the news. 

Sighing, she managed a tired smile as she accepted the coffee. “Thanks, Teddy,” she replied quietly, tracing the edge of the plastic lid with her fingernail. “I have a lot keeping me busy.” Babs smirked wryly and pulled out a French Cruller. “Who else is going to keep the boys in line?” With three of them rotating the cowl, she had her work cut out for her. The communication had to be constant, effortless, and consistent, or it would all fall apart. 

Wildcat and Oracle || Ted and Barbara

@oraclestandingby

Ted knew Barbara well. He knew most of the batkids well, except for the apparent wonder child from Cain. Damian, he’d had the least time with, but by virtue of being close to Bruce, Ted knew him of course. But he had a special soft spot for Barbara. Bruce’s first girl in the game, and a feisty spitfire. That bite in his ring had been astounding. Say what one liked about all Bruce and his boys. His girls, though… they were little asskickers sure as anything. And Barbara had had the bite and the bark to match. Ted respected that kid. Spitefire with something to prove, just like Dinah and Selina. 

When Barbara had been paralyzed, Ted was in the unique position of understanding her. Of knowing what that felt. They were both fighters when they started out. In the field scrapping. She had been good in the ring. Fast on her feet. Ted knew what it felt like to lose that.

He wondered how this pain, this loss, compared to that one. Would she be able to spitefully claw her way out of this one too? 

Ted’s knuckles were bruised, which was nothing new really. But he had gone at a bag without wrapping. Drunk, aching like everyone else that had ever met Bruce Wayne. He was bruised and had the beginnings of a headache, but he was there. “Hey, spitfire,” he greeted, tone warm if tired.

Ted Grant was someone Babs became acquainted with early on. He’d been one of the teachers introduced by Bruce. Even then, she’d known Bruce well enough to understand that any outsider who earned his recommendation wasn’t someone to scoff at. She’d been eager to learn anything she could from him. Everything he taught her was etched into her brain in detailed perfection. Most of her moves were muscle memory by now, but she never fell behind in practice. She never let herself get too cocky. It was one thing that she (blissfully) didn’t have in common with the batboys. There were times she was a bit too quick to fixate on mistakes, especially if they were her own. 

But Ted was always ready with a challenge, and with encouragement. He was, along with her father, one of the only men she could think of whose opinion actually meant something to her. They shared a commonality that few others would ever experience. It wasn’t something Babs talked about a lot, but she knew she had someone to talk about it with.